


and miles to go before i sleep

by theladiesyouhate



Category: Mob City
Genre: F/M, M/M, Preseries, References to PTSD, alternating pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-11-23
Packaged: 2018-02-26 18:22:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2661827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladiesyouhate/pseuds/theladiesyouhate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he's eight, Joe gets into his first fight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and miles to go before i sleep

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this right before the deadline for this week's Mob City Monday. The prompt for this week was pre series, so I wanted to tackle Joe's, Jasmine's, and Ned's lives before the events of the series. The timeline is a little wonky, but the again the timeline in the show for these characters is very unclear so I blame that a little.
> 
> All of my love and thanks to Aubrey for beta-ing and making sure I finished this before the deadline. <3

When he’s eight, Joe gets into his first fight. He goes up against three older kids all on his own, all because they’re pushing his little brother Harry around. He gets a broken nose for his trouble, but he sends them packing with split lips and black eyes.

His mother doesn’t see it as a victory.

“You’re a good boy, Joey,” she scolds, bustling around the kitchen as Joe sits at the worn table, ice pressed to his nose. “But you have to think before you act, not just run head first into trouble.”

“But they were hurtin’ him, Ma!” Joe pouts. “I was trying to look out for him!”

“And you got yourself into even more trouble.” His mother sighs, shaking her head. “You’re a good boy,” she repeats, as if saying it enough times will make it true. “But you have to think!”

The next day, Joe’s sitting out on the steps of their building and pretending like he isn’t sulking when their neighbor Mr. Morrison comes by. He takes one look at Joe, and gives him a somewhat disapproving look. “How big was the other boy?”

“There were three of them,” Joe mumbles, staring at the cracked sidewalk.

“Three, huh?” Mr. Morrison chuckles, and Joe looks up in surprise. “And that’s all you got? Don’t tell your mother I said this, but good for you, son.”

Joe can’t help but smile proudly.

“So,” Mr. Morrison says as he sits down on the step next to Joe, “why’d you try to take on three guys by yourself?”

Joe shrugs, smile fading as his eyes drop back to the concrete. “They were picking on Harry, an’ I tried to make them stop but they wouldn’t listen.”

Mr. Morrison nods. “And so that’s when you fought them?”

When Joe doesn’t reply, he shakes his head. “What you did was right, in a way. You’ve got to look out for people. Take care of them. Make sure that they aren’t being taken advantage of. But going in fists swinging isn’t the way to do it. Then you’re no better than they are.”

He pats Joe on the shoulder. “You’re a good kid,” he says, and Joe thinks it’s dumb that all these adults keep telling him that when they’re lecturing him about how he was wrong. “You should put that energy into doing something with your life when you get older. Who knows, maybe you’ll join the force some day. We could use some men with your guts.”

“Really?” Joe looks up at him. He hasn’t really thought about what he wants to be when he grows up, but being a cop sounds fun. And if Mr. Morrison says he’d be good at it...

Mr. Morrison nods and smiles. “When you’re old enough, come talk to me, and we’ll see if you should join the academy or not.”

Joe nods eagerly. He keeps smiling as he sits on the steps, even after Mr. Morrison’s gone back inside. A cop. He’s going to be a cop.

\-----

“Be more ladylike.”

Jasmine’s sure she’s heard that a hundred times if she’s heard it once. It’s all her mother ever tells her. Be more ladylike. Don’t ruin your dress. Stop running around trying to keep up with the boys.

Jasmine doesn’t mind being ladylike all the time. And she only ever ruins her dresses on accident. But it’s boring, having to sit still all the time, so whenever her mother’s back is turned she sneaks out and plays with the other kids in the neighborhood.

One afternoon, she sneaks out the side door and heads for the small park nearby. There’s a group of seven neighborhood boys all standing around the trunk of a tree, staring up at at.

“What’s going on?” Jasmine puts her hands on her hips and grins when the boys jump. They’re all scared of her and she like that.

One of the boys points up at the tree. “Freddie climbed the tree and now he’s stuck up there ‘cause he got scared.”

Jasmine sighs. Boys are stupid like that.

“Move,” she orders, walking over to the base of the tree. She can see Freddie perched up in the branches over her head. This doesn’t look like a job she can take care of on the ground, so she grabs the lowest branch and starts climbing too.

“What are you doing? You’re gonna get stuck up there too!” The boys all look around nervously, waiting for a parent to swoop in and yell at them.

Jasmine sticks her tongue out and them and climbs higher. “I’m not scared!”

The branches dig into her palms, and there’s no way she can hide the scrapes on her knees, but she keeps going until she makes it up to where Freddie’s holding on for dear life.

“Come on, Freddie. You can’t stay up here forever.”

“Yes I can!” Freddie sniffles. “I can stay up here until I’m a hundred!”

Jasmine huffs. There’s only one surefire way to get a boy to do anything around here.

“So a girl can climb down without being scared and you can’t?” Jasmine doesn’t know why saying stuff like that always upsets boys. But it works like a charm here. Freddie slowly starts climbing down, sniffling as he goes.

Jasmine climbs down as well, far faster than him. She drops the last couple of feet and grins at all the boys. “You all are a bunch of chickens.”

They all ignore her, instead gathering around Freddie. Jasmine shakes her head. Boys really are stupid.

\-----

The novel is falling apart, the pages barely still attached to the binding. Ned glances around nervously when he takes it out from under the loose floorboard under his bed. The book is fragile enough that all it’ll take is someone ripping it out of his hands and it’ll fall to pieces. It’s his very favorite too, so Ned is extra careful to make sure none of the other boys in the orphanage are there whenever he takes it out.

They don’t like him very much. Ned tells himself it’s ‘cause he’s smarter than all of them. They’re all idiots, stumbling around and hitting each other. He hates the chaos and noise. He wants to live someplace quiet, where’s he’s got his own space. He’d used to have his own room, in the apartment he and his parents had lived in.

But then there was the fire and now he’s stuck here, with thirty other boys, hoping and praying that maybe some day someone will adopt him and rescue him. Until then, his best escape is reading. He likes all books, but the pulp ones at the drugstore are his favorites. The one tucked under his bed he stole when he was seven.

He thumbs through the worn pages of the book, an eager smile creeping over his face. He’s almost at his favorite part - the introduction of the bad guy. The villain’s some gangster, wearing a nice suit and smoking a cigar. He gets the best lines too. He’s far more interesting than the boring hero, some dumb detective who’s always mooning over broads and who gets too hung up on doing the right thing.

Ned runs his thumb over the villain’s name. Johnny Stax. Ned says it out loud. He likes the sound of it. It sounds better than his name. Edward Strauss sounds like someone boring, a tailor or a grocer. Ned doesn’t want to be boring. He wants to be someone special, someone worth noticing.

Ned keeps reading, until he’s almost at the end. Then he closes it and tucks the book back under the loose floorboard under his bed. He never reads the ending. He doesn’t like how it ends with the bad guy dying. It’s a stupid ending. The guy was smarter and more interesting than the hero. It’s dumb that he had to die. And it was over some dame too. That makes it even worse.

Love is, in Ned’s mind, the stupidest thing there is. It ruins all the books he reads and the movies he sneaks into. People are always tripping over themselves to do stupid things because they think it’ll impress some stupid broad. Worse, then all the stories end with the broad dying and the hero crying over her. Those are always terrible endings.

That’s why Ned’s promised himself he’s never, ever going to fall in love. He’s going to be perfectly happy all on his own. He’s gonna change his name and be famous, and not throw it all away because someone batted their eyes at him.

At age nine, he’s sure that he’ll be able to keep that promise.

\-----

The same guy comes into the shitty diner Jasmine works in every night.

He’s handsome in a brutal sort of way, with a crooked nose and broad shoulders. He’s a cop, still in uniform as he sits at the counter and orders the same thing every time, a hamburger and a soda. He smiles shyly at all the girls, and always tips a little extra.

After two weeks, Jasmine decides she’s going to get him to ask her out. The guy seems sweet enough, and is far better looking than the men her friends encourage her to go out with. They’re all scared of her becoming some kind of spinster. Jasmine laughs off their worries. “I’ll get married when the time’s right,” she says.

Maybe the guy isn’t going to turn out to be marriage material, but he seems nice enough. A couple dates couldn’t hurt.

She waits until she has a late shift, and the timing works out so she’s on her way out the door just as he is. He holds the door open for her, tipping his hat with a quiet “miss”, and she gives him her sweetest smile.

“It’s getting kind of dark,” she coos, voice all honey. “Would you mind walking a lady home?”

He gives her a small smile. “Of course, miss.”

“You don’t have to call me miss.” She holds out her hand. “Jasmine Fontaine.”

He shakes it. “Joe Teague.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance,” Jasmine says. She smiles even wider when he blushes.

As it turns out, Joe Teague has a sharp sense of humor, once he opens up. He’s warm and friendly, a real sweetheart. Jasmine keeps finding excuses to press close to his side, and eventually, he shyly offers her his arm.

They’re at her building far too soon. He walks her up to her apartment and then asks if he can call on her, suddenly nervous again.

“Of course,” Jasmine says. And then, boldly, she kisses his cheek. “I’d like that very much.”

Joe blushes again. “Goodnight, Miss Fontaine.”

“Goodnight, Officer Teague.” She smiles at him again before she closes the door.

\-----

Edward Strauss has officially become Ned Stax, and Ned couldn’t be happier about it.

The new name suits him much better, he thinks. It sounds more interesting, more exciting. He could be a movie star, or a famous gambler. It makes people take notice of him.

As he heads into his senior year of college, he wants people to take notice of him. He’s at the top of his class, though that doesn’t surprise him. He’s always been the smartest guy in the room. His teachers give him glowing praise. You could be a doctor, or a lawyer. Maybe even a politician.

Ned’s never had this many choices about his future before. He lies awake at night sometimes thinking about the endless possibilities he has. He can do whatever he damn well wants, while the boys who bullied him as a kid are stuck in dead-end careers and loveless marriages.

He has friends now. Well, calling them friends is a bit charitable. They’re all like him, brilliant and ambitious. They were drawn together by a shared distaste for their more enthusiastic and idealistic classmates, but the bonds formed there were weak. Ned knows he’d sell any of them out in a heartbeat for the chance to get ahead, just as they’d do the same to him.

Even with that knowledge, he’s not lonely. They put on a good enough show of being close that he can pretend he’s got friends. He’s handsome enough that he’s able to keep a steady stream of women - and more recently, men - in his bed. They don’t stay, which is fine by him. He doesn’t need distractions. He just wants to keep rising.

And rise he does, until he wakes the morning of December 7th, 1941 to find that his plans have suddenly been changed.

\-----

Joe enlists the day war is declared.

He’s never wanted to be a soldier. He’s content to do the best he can as a cop. But it’s what’s right. All the other able-bodied men his age are enlisting, there’s no reason why he wouldn’t as well.

Jasmine takes the news as well as she can. “Of course you should enlist,” she says, twisting her engagement ring around her finger. Joe had saved up for months to buy it. “I can’t be the only woman in the building whose husband stays at home while the rest of them go off and save the world.” She says it proudly, trying to sound brave, but her lips tremble slightly.

He kisses her. “We can move the wedding up. Get hitched before I ship out.”

“So you can make me a widow?”

He winces at that. “Jas...”

“I’m fine,” she says, resting her forehead against his. “A little scared, but fine. I can’t ask you to stay.”

Joe smiles at that, closing his eyes. Jasmine understands him, understands why he has to do this. It’s why he loves her so much. She understands without him even having to say.

“It’s going to be okay,” he says, pulling her into his arms and stroking her back gently. “You’ll see. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“We can go on our honeymoon then,” Jasmine says happily. “I think I’d like to see the East Coast. New York, maybe.”

“Not Niagara Falls?” Joe asks.

Jasmine pulls away far enough so that she can cup his face in her hands. “Come back and we can go wherever you want,” she says, suddenly serious.

Joe nods and kisses her again. “I’ll come back. I promise.”

His voice is more confident than he feels.

\-----

The sound of men jeering draws Joe’s attention as he heads across the base where he’s training. He can see a group of about fifteen standing in a circle, looking at something he can’t quite see. Whatever it is, it doesn’t sit right with him, so he walks over, drawing himself up to his full height and squaring his shoulders.

When he gets close enough, the reason for the commotion is clear. One of the men, a brutish, nasty guy by the name of Hodge, is beating the shit out of one of the younger recruits, a slender little thing who’s struggling to hold his own. He gets in a good punch or two, but Hodge sends him down to the dirt with a right hook. When the kid tries to get back up, he gets a kick to the ribs for his troubles.

Hodge laughs meanly and Joe sees red. He doesn’t have time for thugs like this.

With a grunt, he pushes through the surrounding men. Hodge barely gets the chance to register he’s there before Joe breaks his nose with one swift punch.

“Fuck!” Hodge swears, stumbling backwards, blood splattering on his shirt. Joe takes the opportunity to plant himself in front of the kid, shielding him from view.

“Guess it’s no fun pickin’ on someone your own size,” he growls. “Maybe if you spent half of the energy on training that you do on being a good for nothing bully, we could end this war sooner.”

Hodge glares but says nothing. Joe turns his attention to the men around him. “We got a problem here?”

Slowly, the crowd disperses, muttering to themselves.

“I had it under control,” a voice says behind Joe. He turns to see the other soldier on his feet, glaring at him sullenly through a mop of unruly curls.

“Hodge would’a ripped you in two,” he says curtly.

The kid scoffs. “Maybe. Or maybe I was just wearing him down. Either way, I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.”

Joe rolls his eyes. “This how they say thank you where you’re from, soldier?”

For a moment, the soldier looked almost embarrassed. “Thank you,” he said quietly, eyes dropping to the ground for a moment.

Joe nods, his anger dissipating. “I don’t think I got your name.”

“It’s Ned Stax.”

“Joe Teague.”

Ned sizes him up, studying him. “Is this supposed to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship or something?”

“If you want,” Joe says cooly. “Couldn’t hurt to have someone watching your back.”

Ned shrugs. He gives Joe one last look before turning and walking away, limping slightly after the beating he took.

Joe watches him walk away. _There’s no harm in looking out for the kid,_ he thinks to himself. _No harm at all._

\-----

It rains the day Joe ships out.

Jasmine drives both him and the friend he brought home from leave to the station. Ned politely shakes her hand and thanks her for her hospitality, and she politely says she’ll write to him as well. They smile at each other and then Ned gets on the train, giving her some privacy to say goodbye to Joe.

“You’re gonna be okay on your own, right?” Joe brushes a strand of hair out of her face and Jasmine almost laughs at how ridiculous he is to be worrying about her when he’s about to leave for war.

“Yes.” She smiles at him. “I’m a big, tough girl, remember? I thought that’s why you married me.”

Joe smiles too. “Yeah, yeah it is.”

For a moment they just stare at each other, as if they’re memorizing what the other looks like. Jasmine moves first, pulling Joe in for a desperate kiss. He kisses back just as passionately, holding her close.

“I’ll write every day,” she says when they pull apart. “I promise.”

Joe nods and kisses her again.

“Come home.” Jasmine doesn’t care how desperate she sounds. “Just promise me you’ll come home.”

“I will.” Joe traces his fingers over her cheek. “I promise.”

She kisses him again, until the train whistle separates them. Joe picks up his duffel and slings it over his shoulder. He kisses her one last time, briefly, and then he’s walking away, looking over his shoulder as he climbs on the train.

Jasmine watches him disappear, more scared than she’s ever been in her life. There are other families around her, all of them bound by shared grief, and she stands with them as the train pulls away from the station. Once it’s gone, she returns to the empty apartment and waits.

\-----

Ned opens his eyes and groans, squinting against the bright light. His entire body aches, especially his left side. He blinks, trying to bring the world into focus.

“You’re awake.” The sharp voice cuts through the fog and Ned looks over, the figure of a medic coming into view.

“What...” Ned mumbles, finally recognizing that he’s in the medical tent. The last thing he remembers was a searing pain in his right side and falling to the ground, too frightened to yell for help. The rest is a blur of pain and noise, and it doesn’t explain how he managed to survive long enough to make it here. “What happened?”

“You were shot,” the medic says. “Luckily for you, Sergeant Teague went back to find you. Nearly got shot as well, but the man’s got a guardian angel or something. He managed to drag your ass back here.” There was a small note of distaste in his voice, as though he thought Ned should’ve been left to die. _Bastard,_ Ned thinks fuzzily.

The medic gestures to the foot of the bed. “If you want to thank him, he’s here. Now that you’re awake, maybe he’ll stop hanging around and actually go do something useful.”

As gingerly as he can, Ned raises his head to look. Joe is slumped over the end of the cot, sound asleep and snoring softly. Ned can’t help but smile at the sight.

The medic shakes his head, turning to go check on other patients. As he passes by, he kicks Joe’s leg. “Wake up, sunshine, your friend’s gonna be alright.”

Joe flinches, startling awake. He instantly looks over at Ned. When he sees Ned staring back at him, he smiles widely, looking happier than Ned’s seen him in months.

“He said you went back for me.” Ned frowns. “Why’d you go back?”

Joe’s smile drops a little. “What’d you mean why? You’re my friend. What was I supposed to do, leave you for dead?”

“You could’ve been killed,” Ned says, trying to sound reproachful. In truth, he’s confused. He doesn’t know why Joe would risk his life for him.

“Yeah.” Joe’s frowning now. He leans back against the cot. “But I couldn’t just leave you behind, kid. Besides, you’d do the same for me.”

Ned shakes his head. “You’re a dumbass, Gunny.”

“You still don’t know how to say thank you, do you?” But Joe’s smiling again, his tone teasing. Ned smiles back, around the knot in his throat. He doesn’t know how to tell Joe this is the first time anyone’s done anything like this for him before. That Joe is the first person who’s really looked after him before.

Later on, after Joe saves his life two more times, Ned realizes that was the moment he was fucked.

\-----

The home front changes Jasmine. She learns to be bold in different ways, seeking out work wherever she can and choosing her battles more carefully. She holds her friends together when they get telegrams bearing bad news. She waits for any news of Joe, as his letters get less frequent and finally stop altogether.

She’s not foolish enough to think her hardships have been as great as Joe’s. She just doesn’t expect how greatly he will be changed.

Her sweet husband is gone. Joe comes home closed off and distant, prone to mood swings. Ned trails home on his heels. He seems to be the same, though he doesn’t stay around long enough for Jasmine to see the damage. He leaves for New York two weeks later. Joe cries afterwards, and nothing Jasmine says will calm him down.

If the days are bad, then the nights are worse. Joe has terrible nightmares, ones he can never seem to wake from. At first, Jasmine tries to let him ride them out. When they get worse, she tries to wake him.

The first time she tries, Joe doesn’t recognize her. He pins her to the bed, hands around her throat, and she cries and begs him to wake up, to realize he’s home and he’s safe. When he finally, finally wakes up, his entire face crumples and he pushes her away even as she tries to soothe him. He stays in the bathroom all night, and Jasmine can hear him sobbing once her own tears dry.

There’s no going back after that.

Joe sleeps on the couch, afraid of hurting her. She doesn’t ask him to come back to bed. She knows that Joe didn’t mean to hurt her, but she’s scared. So she lets the divide between them grow. They talk less and less. The times they do talk, they fight, tempers flaring too hot for them to realize what they’re doing. Joe throws himself into work as Jasmine is politely let go from her job to make room for returning soldiers. She’s left with nothing to do but sit at home, resenting her husband and the war and everything and anything in between.

She writes to Ned. He gave them both his address before he left, asking them to stay in touch. Jasmine thinks he might know what’s best for Joe, but Ned seems as lost as she does. Maybe the war affected him more that he let on. No matter what it is though, she’s alone in this.

Next, she tries to talk to Joe about it, but all she has to do is mention the war and he shuts down. He won’t tell her what happened. It only pushes him farther away, and Jasmine can’t take it anymore. She can’t hold their marriage together on her own, not if Joe won’t reach out and try to fix things as well.

After half a year of pretending that nothing is wrong, she can’t keep the charade up any longer.

Joe doesn’t get angry when she asks for a divorce. He doesn’t cry, or yell. He doesn’t beg her to stay. He listens to her entire speech about how it’s for the best with a sad, lost look on his face.

“If it’s what you want,” he finally says, voice soft.

_No,_ Jasmine thinks bitterly, _this is not what I want. I want my husband back. I want things to go back to normal. I want you to talk to me._

Instead, she nods and says, “it is.”

Joe looks at his lap. “I’ll leave. No reason you shouldn’t keep the apartment.”

He doesn’t say another word as he packs a suitcase. Jasmine sits in the living room and waits until he’s standing by the door, bag in hand.

He looks at her, and for a moment she thinks she recognizes her husband again. “I love you.”

Jasmine blinks back tears. She kisses his cheek. “I love you too.”

Joe looks like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. Instead, he walks out the door. Jasmine watches him drive away through her window. She doesn’t cry until he’s finally out of her sight.

_\-----_

Los Angeles hasn’t changed much in the time Ned’s been gone.

He finishes law school, passing with flying colors, the darling of all his professors and the bane of every other student’s life. He stands out enough that they all have to take notice of him. And getting noticed means getting the job opportunity of a fucking lifetime.

Meyer Lansky himself offers him a job, out in Los Angeles. “I’m sure you’ve heard of my friend, Ben Siegel,” he says, a tight smile on his lips. “He needs someone with your brains out there, considering his...propensity for getting into trouble.”

So Ned gets shipped back out to Los Angeles. His first few days there are a blur of meetings. He charms his way through most of them. Mr. Siegel seems pleased at least, even if Sid Rothman glares at him like he’s something he scraped off the bottom of his shoe.

He’s there a week before he finally meets up with Joe.

Bunny’s Jungle Club is definitely a step down from the Clover. Not that Ned expected Joe to frequent one of the glamorous clubs that he’s going to make his new home in. Joe’s always been a guy of simple tastes.

“Hi Gunny,” he says, sliding into the seat next to Joe, disguising the rush of joy he feels at seeing him again with a crooked smirk.

Joe doesn’t smile. He looks like shit, coarse suit hanging off him and half-finished cigarette dangling between his lips. It’s a far cry from the handsome war hero that Ned left behind.

“You’re here?” Joe narrows his eyes at him. “Thought the plan was for you to go to Washington, be the next president or something.”

“Nah, that’s aiming a little too high.” Ned takes out a cigarette of his own. “Right now it’s a nice, comfy job here, once I pass the bar.”

Joe grunts in response. He stubs out his cigarette in the nearest ashtray. “Some rich guy keeping you on retainer?”

“So to speak.” Ned gives him a smug grin. “You know Ben Siegel?”

Joe stares at him. “You’re gonna work for that piece of shit?”

“The money’s good.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Ned sighs. “So what if it’s a little shady? You gonna arrest me for taking a job?”

“No.” Joe stares down at the counter and Ned feels a twinge of guilt.

“It’s just a job, Gunny. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna start robbing banks and gunning people down.”

“You’d better not.” Joe looks up at him, the ghost of a smile on his face. “Then I’d have to arrest you.”

Ned chuckles. “I’d like to see you try.”

Joe nods. “It’s good to see you again, kid. I missed you.”

“Don’t get all sappy on me now.” Ned rolls his eyes, even as Joe’s words make him blush. After a pause, he adds, “I missed you too.”

Any embarrassment he feels about admitting something so personal is worth the way Joe’s face lights up.

\-----

The Clover is packed wall to wall, overflowing with socialites mixing in with movie stars and a group of men who’d love nothing more than to cut their throats and take their money. Jasmine almost pities them in a way. Life must be dull when one’s only thrill comes from having your picture taken with criminals.

She still smiles and snaps pictures though, moving through the crowd in silvery dress that makes her feel ridiculous. The money is good, and at least she’s got a camera in her hands. She’s good at her job, even if she’s not exactly making high art.

Her attention is drawn to the table near the back where Ben Siegel is holding court. Sid Rothman is at his side and the two are engaged in deep conversation. Siegel's turned towards Rothman as he talks, all his attention focused on him. Jasmine wonders about the pair of them, sometimes. To Ben’s left sits Mickey Cohen, bellowing as per usual. He’s talking to someone new, a dark haired man in a suit that’s slightly too large for him.

The man turns his head slightly and Jasmine almost gasps. It’s Ned. Joe’s Ned. He was just a child when Joe had brought him home on leave, and now here he was, rubbing elbows with the mob’s elite.

Seeing him makes her think of Joe and it’s still too fresh. She’s tearing up in the middle of the club, and if anyone sees, there’s going to be hell to pay. So she slips out a side door, into the alley behind the club. Jasmine leans against the wall and breathes deeply, covering her face with her hands. She won’t cry, not here.

“Someone get fresh with you in there?”

Jasmine startles and looks up. She recognizes the man watching her from a few feet away. Hecky Nash. He’s performed at the club a few times. He never was very funny.

“Ex-boyfriend.” That’s closer to the truth than a lie.

“Some guy dumped you?” Hecky shakes his head. “Dumb as a brick. I were dating a catch like you, I’d’ve never let you go.”

Jasmine glares at him. “You sure know how to charm a girl,” she deadpans.

Hecky laughs. “Only the best material for the best looking girl in the club. I’ve seen ya around before.”

“Funny that you should, given that I work here.”

That makes Hecky laugh harder. “And I thought I was the jokester! You’ve got the looks, the wit. Is there anything you can’t do?”

Jasmine smirks. “I’ve been told my cooking leaves something to be desired.”

“Well,” Hecky says, offering her a cigarette. “No one’s perfect.”

Jasmine studies him for a moment. Sure, he’s a bit of a loser, but he’s not Joe. He’s the complete opposite of Joe. And she’s lonely.

So she takes the cigarette.

\-----

“I’m telling you, Gunny,” Ned says as he fumbles with his key. “This time a couple months from now, I’ll be a real damn lawyer.”

Joe doesn’t say anything, just laughs. This isn’t the first time he’d heard this speech; hell, it hasn’t even been the first time he’d heard it this night. Ned’s high on his own confidence, proudly telling everyone who will listen (namely Joe) about how he was going to pass the bar with flying colors.

Joe doesn’t doubt it. Ned’s a smart guy, he’s always said so. He doesn’t like what he’s putting his talents to use for, but any unease he has is washed away by Ned’s excitement at being so close to achieving his dream.

He remembers back during the war, how Ned talked for hours about how much going to law school meant to him. “If I get out of this shithole,” he’d say, eyes bright and fierce, “I’m going to make a name for myself. The world’s gonna remember Ned Stax.”

That’s why Joe offered to take Ned out for dinner the night after he takes the bar exam. “C’mon, Bugsy won’t miss you for one night. It’s the least I can do,” he’d said when Ned protested.

So they’d gone out and had a nice dinner. They’d also had a few too many drinks, so Joe insisted he make sure Ned get home okay.

“Such a gentleman,” Ned teased, and Joe tipped his hat to him with a grin.

Ned finally manages to unlock the door. He swings it open, half falling into the room. Joe stumbles forward and catches Ned around the waist, pulling him back to his feet as the door swung shut, leaving them in darkness.

They stand there, in the dark, and Joe suddenly is very conscious of the fact his hand is still on Ned’s waist. He doesn’t try to move it though. Ned’s still pressed close to him, head tilted back slightly to look up at him. In the dim glow cast from the streetlight outside, he almost looks nervous.

“ ‘m proud of you,” Joe says quietly. “Always said you were the smart one.”

“Yeah, yeah you always did.” Ned smirks at him, and Joe notices how his mouth is a little crooked. Funny, he’d never really paid attention to that before.

“Joe?”

“Yeah?”

Ned doesn't say anything. Instead, he just grabs Joe by the tie and pulls him down into a messy kiss. Joe doesn't even think, just tightens his grip on Ned's waist. It's been so long since he's been with anyone, not since Jasmine, and kissing Ned feels right. They've been dancing around this for too long. It was bound to happen sooner or later. 

Ned pulls away and Joe shakes his head. “More,” he growls, rocking his hips against Ned’s, and Ned moans softly before kissing him again.

\-----

Joe wakes the next morning to find the bed next to him already empty. He can hear Ned moving around the kitchen and he smiles.

He dresses as quickly as he can heads for the kitchen. Ned’s leaning against the counter, reading the paper. He’s dressed in his suit already but he hasn’t slicked his hair back yet.

“It’s a good look for you,” Joe says from the door of the kitchen. He leans against the frame. “The curls.”

Ned scoffs. “If I want to go back to looking like a scrawny kid.”

He looks up from the paper and gives Joe a tight smile. “I’m surprised you’re still here. I thought you’d have left hours ago.”

“And not say goodbye?” Joe shakes his head. “Last night was good. And I slept better than I have in years.”

Ned’s face softens for a moment. “I’m glad to hear that,” he says gently, and then the mask is back in place. “You need to leave now, though. I don’t want someone to see you. Guys in my line of work, it doesn’t look too good if we’re seen spending too much time with guys like you. It’s a conflict of interest.”

“A conflict of interest?” Joe asks quietly.

Ned shrugs. “Well, yeah, Gunny. What’s it look like, you and I spending time together?”

Joe frowns. “We get drinks once or twice a week. And last night, we just had a little too much and I wound up staying ‘cause I was too drunk to make it home. That’s the story. It’s not like you’re slipping me information.”

“But if there was a leak, a guy who hangs around with a cop is going to look more suspicious than a guy who doesn’t,” Ned counters. He sets the newspaper to the side and crosses his arms. “That’s just the way the world works.”

Joe looks at the floor. “So what, we’re just supposed to stop talking, then? Act like we don’t know each other?”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Ned says shortly. “I’m just saying we need to exercise caution.”

“And what about last night?” Joe looks back up at Ned, suddenly angry.

Ned stares at him for a moment. “Last night was a mistake, and a one time thing.”

He’s lying. Joe knows him well enough to tell. Somehow, that hurts more than an outright rejection.

“Alright then,” he says. “Won’t bother you any more. You’ve probably got movie stars and politicians to go win over anyway. No room for a guy like me in that world.”

Ned winces at that, but Joe forces himself not to care. Instead he walks away, grabbing his coat and hat from where he’d dropped them on the couch, and walks out the door.

\-----

Jasmine comes home late after a shift at the Clover to find a strange man leaving the house. He’s scrawny, with a scarred lip, and he stares at Jasmine like she’s a piece of meat. She’s no stranger to men’s stares, she couldn’t work at the Clover and not be, but there’s something about him that sets her on edge.

Hecky’s inside, smoking a cigarette. He barely looks at her when she comes in.

“Who was that?” Jasmine sits down next to him. She’s seen Hecky in all sorts of moods, but this one is different. He’s quiet, which in and of itself is such a rarity that Jasmine would be worried even if the circumstances weren’t so suspicious.

Hecky exhales smoke. “There was a guy here, before you came in. He said he had a tip for me.”

“Another gamble?” Jasmine scowls. Hecky’s bets were always too risky, too wild. One day they were going to get him killed.

“No.” Hecky shakes his head. “Nah, it’s a different game this time. See, this guy has some information on a mutual acquaintance of ours. His activities. The kind he wouldn’t want the police to know about.”

Jasmine shakes her head. “I don’t have any acquaintances like that.”

“Fine. My acquaintance, your boss.”

Jasmine stares at Hecky. “Ben Siegel? That’s who this is about?”

Hecky gives her a manic grin. “Rumor has it that Abe Greenberg is in town. Guy’s looking to drop dime on the guys back out East, and ol’ Bugsy’s gonna be the one to make sure that doesn’t happen. And this guy, he knows when it’s gonna happen.”

“What does that have to do with us? Are we supposed to sound the alarm? Warn him?”

“No. See, that’s where you can help. We get evidence of Siegel’s guys pulling the trigger, and then we use it to bankroll a new start. I’m thinking San Francisco. It’s a nice town.”

“You’re crazy.” Jasmine gets to her feet and heads for the stairs. “And I won’t help you.”

“Hey!” Hecky follows her. “You’re gonna do as I say. Don’t you want a nice life? The kind they all have but don’t deserve?”

Jasmine glares at him over her shoulder. “You think we’ll actually get away with it?”

“Of course! Baby, I wouldn’t put you in danger unless I knew for sure we could do this.” Hecky catches her arm and stops her. “Just trust me. This time, thing’s are gonna be different. Good fortune’s coming our way and all that jazz.”

Jasmine scowls at him but doesn’t say anything else.

“Trust me.” Hecky’s voice is soothing even if there’s a manic glint in his eyes. “The way I’ve got this all worked out, within a few weeks, we’ll be sitting pretty and they’ll be wondering how the rug got pulled out from under them. There’s no way this could go wrong.”

\-----

When Hecky comes looking to him to give him protection, Ned almost laughs in his face.

“What do you expect me to do? Give you advice on how to blackmail my boss?” He leans back in his chair, letting Hecky sweat a bit. “I’d suggest just turning the pictures over to him and begging forgiveness. Maybe he’ll be in a good mood.”

He won’t, of course. Both Ned and Hecky know that. The further this Vegas project goes, the more unhinged Ben gets. Even Mickey’s seen it. No one brings it up though, not unless they want to risk Ben taking a swing at them or Sid ordering them to shut the fuck up if they want to keep working.

“Listen, all I want is a better life, the one I should have!” Hecky leans over the desk, and Ned wrinkles his nose at the overwhelming scent of cheap cologne. “For me and for my girl.”

Fuck. Ned had almost forgotten about Jasmine. He can’t just toss her to the wolves too. She’d been kind to him, writing to him and letting him stay with them for a couple of weeks when he first got home. She deserved better than this.

And Joe would never forgive him if he let something happen to her.

Thinking about Joe makes his stomach drop. He misses him. They haven’t spoken in a while, three months if Ned stops pretending he’s not keeping count. It hurt almost more than he could bear for the first few weeks, but it’s faded to a dull ache now, something lodged in his chest that won’t go away no matter what happens.

He’d thought he was finally over him the day he passed the bar. Ben had thrown him a party at the Clover in celebration, despite Ned’s protests that he didn’t need or want one. And it had been fun for a while, being the center of attention. After all, that was the life he wanted. People admiring him and respecting him, all their attention focused on him and how clever he was.

It’s only when he was on his way home from the party, his newest girl at his side, that Ned wonders what Joe would’ve said if he’d heard the news. It wouldn’t have been much, Joe was never one for long speeches, but he’d have said something nice and given Ned one of those dumb little smiles he saved only for the people he was close to. The thought makes the knot in his chest tighten; later on, lying in bed, the girl asleep beside him, Ned lets himself wallow in self-pity for a while.

He considers calling Joe and trying to work things out, but Ned can’t make himself pick up the damn phone. Joe makes him vulnerable, was a weak spot he couldn’t get rid of even if he wanted to, and actually facing him and admitting what had happened was more than some one night fling would cause more trouble than it was worth. Especially with Joe being a detective and all. All it takes is the wrong person seeing them meet for a drink and suddenly all this goes away. He loses everything he’s worked for.

Still, he owes Joe. The guy saved his life three times, and Ned always pays his debts. There’s no such thing as just doing a guy a favor in this world.

Hecky’s still staring at him, breathing heavily, and Ned gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s got an idea for how to deal with Hecky and make sure Jasmine stays alive. And if it works out, he and Joe will be on the same side too. That’s another problem solved right there.

If he’s going to be this good, he really should get paid more.

“I think I know someone who can help you,” Ned says, leaning back in his chair and feeling far too full of himself. He’s come up with the perfect plan, just as long as Joe plays the part he's going to be given.

Hecky leans forward eagerly, and Ned’s grin widens. “There’s this guy I know..."


End file.
